


After the War

by koalathebear



Series: After the War [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:58:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU, set 10 years after the Second War A chance encounter on the Knight Bus. Despite being AU, it is quite bleak. Be warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione glanced up at the intensely purple triple-decker bus that had appeared out of thin air - narrowly missing her foot. It wasn't the first time she had travelled on the Knight Bus so she had been prepared to do a speedy side-step when it materialised.

The conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to recite his usual spiel rapidly to the air.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Basil Hawthorne, and I will be your conductor this evening.... Oh! _Hullo_ Hermione!” he exclaimed cheerfully when he caught sight of Hermione.

"Hullo Basil ...."

"I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon," he told her. "Need a hand with those?" he asked her, indicating her various boxes of antiquarian books.

"That'd be fabulous, thank you," she said politely.

Basil didn't look anything like his predecessor Stan Shunpike. Very pale with a shock of blond hair and pale watery eyes, Hermione always thought that he looked like a rather masculine version of Luna Lovegood.

"Heading back to London tonight?" he asked her and she nodded.

She reached into her pocket for eleven Sickles and Basil grinned.

"For you, that will also give you hot chocolate, a hot-water bottle and a toothbrush in the colour of your choice."

"Now Basil you know that you should charge me an extra four Sickles for those extras,"Hermione told him reprovingly, a smile on her face.

"Don't be daft!" he told her.

Hermione put some silver into Basil's hand and ignoring his protests, she helped him to lift her things up the steps of the bus.

As it was night time, there were no seats on the bus but half-a-dozen brass bedsteads which stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed and they illuminated the wood-panelled walls, giving the bus a strangely comforting atmosphere.

“There's a spare bed at the back of the bus," he whispered. "I'll put your stuff near Ernie," he said indicating Ernie Prang the elderly wizard who was wearing very thick glasses. His glasses seemed to grow thicker every year and his eyes looked positively enormous as they blinked at Hermione.

"Good to see you again," he greeted her.

"Can you imagine it? Hermione was trying to pay me 15 Sickles again," Basil told Ernie who shook his head.

"You have to stop doing that missy," he told her.

Hermione smiled and made her way to the back of the bus, wobbling slightly and holding her hands out to keep her balance.

“Take her away, Ernie,” she heard Basil say as he sat down in the armchair next to Ernie’s.

There was another tremendous bang, and before she could make a sound, Hermione found that she had been thrown flat over someone else's bed, flung forwards by the speed of the Knight Bus. Fortunately the owner of the bed wasn't actually tucked in bed - he had been sitting on the edge of the bed reading.

As it was he ended up on his back on the bed and Hermione landed on top of him.

"Ouch," he mumbled at the same time Hermione did.

"Ernie - you could have at least waited until I sat down!" She said turning her head and calling out at him.

"Sorry Hermione!" Ernie called out, blinking owlishly at her. "I thought you were already in place ..."

"Blind as a bat," Hermione muttered beneath her breath. Her hair was falling down around the face of the young wizard who was staring up at her with an oddly arrested expression on his face.

"Hermione Granger," he said abruptly, his grey eyes sharp with recognition.

She stared down at him.

"You still smell like flowers," he blurted out. The bus wobbled ominously and the wizard's arms went up around her to steady her.

"Cedric Diggory," she said, her dark eyes travelling over his dark hair, his grey eyes and his lightly tanned skin. He had clearly been abroad .... one didn't get that sort of tan in England.

"It's been a while ...." he said with a smile, his eyes also moving over her face wonderingly. Inevitably, his gaze lingered on her jaw for a moment and she rolled off him and tried to stand up.

The problem was, Ernie still hadn't really mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn’t hit anything; lines of lamp posts, letter boxes and bins jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed. As she was trying to stand, the bus jolted again and Cedric sat up and reached out, catching her lightly by the arm.

"Please feel free to sit .... it's probably safer to sit down," he said. "I'm not planning to try to sleep. Last time I did, I ended upon the floor being stepped on by an old wizard," he said with a grin.

Hermione sat down tentatively on the edge of the bed and looked at him, trying not to stare. He looked the same but somehow very different. Taller, the lanky frame of a boy had filled out although he was still very lean. His dark hair was cropped quite short, his grey eyes very steady and rather serious.

"Ten years .." he said softly and Hermione nodded, looking down at her hands. "I was really sorry about ..."

Hermione held up her hand. "Please, no ..." she said, swallowing hard and shaking her head.

The Second War had ravaged the entire world. Not a single wizarding family had been able to remain unaffected by the war. Almost every family had lost someone in some way. Ten years had passed, the Dark Lord had finally been vanquished but the memory of that nightmarish time still haunted the world like a heavy shadow.

Cedric nodded. He understood and his grey eyes were filled with profound sorrow.

He reached up and touched her jaw lightly. She didn't flinch. She knew what he saw. A livid scar ran along her jaw, a stark blemish against her otherwise smooth skin.

"I remember when this happened...." he said.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I don't have it removed?" she asked him. "It's unsightly, after all," she said challengingly.

Cedric glanced at her. His gaze was like the touch of his hand. Cool and gentle. "You were marked by Voldemort himself ..." She noted that he said the name matter-of-factly and without flinching. "I suspect that no healing charm on earth could remove this mark, Hermione ..."

"That's true," she said. "And to be honest .... this scar is nothing compared to ...." she stopped. It was a cliché to say that it was nothing compared to the scars she still bore inside, to the nightmares that plagued her dreams and the sorrow that she lived with every day of her life. She was scarred while others had lost their lives and had died in agony. Her friends. Her dearest friends. She lived with the sound of their tortured voices every day of her life. She reached up her own hand and touched the raised flesh lightly. "Even if I could, I wouldn't have it removed .... consider it my eternal tribute to those who fell ...."

"I suspect the tribute you carry in your memory is already sufficient to honour the dead, Hermione," Cedric said. "But look at it a different way .... it's a war wound, a badge of honour .... You faced Voldemort and lived."

" _We_ faced him and lived," Hermione said softly.

Cedric nodded.

"How is your father?" Hermione asked him and Cedric's eyes clouded with grief.

"He's never been the same .... he was discharged from St Mungo's some years back but his mind wanders endlessly... sometimes he thinks I'm a child again .." Cedric closed his eyes, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks.

 _He's my boy .... look at how tall and strong he's become .... he's my boy ....Come and give your old dad a hug ..._

The voice was filled with pride and the love was real even if Amos Diggory's mind was forever shattered by the torture that had been inflicted on him by the Death Eaters.

"Cedric, I'm so sorry ..." Hermione whispered.

Cedric's eyes were gentle. "I still have my mother .... I know you lost both your parents, Hermione ... the last I heard .... you'd almost turned your back on the Magical World ... had gone back to living as a Muggle again ..."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, surprised that he had asked about her but then said,"They died because of me, Cedric. If it wasn't because of me, the Death Eaters wouldn't have gone to our home .... they wouldn't have ...."

"You know you can't blame yourself," Cedric told her. "Voldemort even had power in the Muggle World ... they weren't safe from him .... no one was safe from him."

There was a long silence and the sound of swearing as the bus jolted again and passengers were jolted awake. One witch fell out of bed with a loud crash, rolling under her bed as the bus swerved to avoid a wayward tree that kept dancing in front of it.

"Do you mind? Some of us are trying to get some sleep!" she howled as she clawed her way out from under the bed, her night cap askew and her face very disgruntled.

"So is this why you're not Apparating instead of catching the Knight Bus?" Cedric asked her curiously.

Hermione smiled. "Actually, catching the Knight Bus counts as magic you know. I'm not Apparating because I've got too many things to carry and to be honest, sometimes it's nice to have the time out where no one knows where I am ...."

"Same ..." Cedric said with a dawning smile in his eyes. "Instantaneous transportation has its advantages but where else could I get to read, cosy up on a nice four poster bed, undisturbed except by constant and imminent threat of whiplash, death and dismemberment .... plus I get hot chocolate, a hot-water bottle and a toothbrush. All for 15 Sickles. A bargain really".

"They only charge me eleven," Hermione said with a grin and Cedric pretended to look horrified.

"Corruption on the Knight Bus ... who would have thought? And you a former prefect, I'm shocked and appalled, Hermione Granger!"

She laughed softly.

It was late but neither of them bothered to suggest going to sleep. Like Cedric, Hermione had never been able to sleep on the bus that banged loudly and jumped a hundred miles at a time. Oddly enough, judging by the snoring sounds around them, others seemed quite able to sleep despite the violent shaking of the bus.

With the exception of Basil who was sitting at the front of the bus near Ernie, Hermione and Cedric appeared to be the only two people awake on the bus, sitting mostly in darkness with a faint glow of candle light illuminating their faces and giving them a somewhat illusory sense of being alone in the shadows. The fact that they spoke in hushed voices added to the illusion of being alone.

"I heard you opened a book shop in Diagon Alley".

"You heard right," she told him. "And yes it's true that for a while I didn't want to use magic anymore. Then I realised it's not the magic that's good or bad .. it's how you use it. It doesn't create or solve problems .. it's a tool, an ability ..." she gave him a jaunty smile. "Now I run a small bookshop. A few accessories ... I even have a counter for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes Shop.... I couldn't _believe_ I let Fred and George talk me into that!"

"Those two," Cedric said shaking his head and laughing. "They're both married now, right?

"Yes and their children are as naughty as they are ... I'm not sure I'm glad or terrified. On the one hand it means that they can suffer as everyone else has suffered over the years but on the other hand I'm terrified for society!" Cedric laughed.

"And you still see Mr and Mrs Weasley?"

"Yes ... I'm like a substitute daughter," Hermione said quietly and they had encountered yet another topic which both wished to avoid.

Hermione changed the topic deliberately. "What about you?"

"Do you remember Oliver Wood?" Cedric asked her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How could I forget him?

"After the Final Battle, he was badly injured ... he had to give up Quidditch. He was completely and utterly gutted about it ... I was kicking around the world doing odd jobs for Gringotts ... when one day I bumped into him... somewhere in Africa I think. He was posing as a Muggle, would you believe it? He was working for an aid organisation."

"Doing what?" Hermione asked, looking very fascinated.

"Helping to find water ... arranging for water treatment, dealing with natural disasters ..."

"He was using _magic_?" Hermione asked her eyes widening.

Cedric nodded with a smile. "Before I knew it, I got suckered into it, too .... the Muggles are impressed that we seem to be able to find a water source no matter how arid the area is ..... and some of our water filtration charms are a bloody work of art," he said with enthusiasm.

"What else do you do?" Hermione demanded, looking fascinated.

"We help with insect plagues - anti-locust hexes.... we can't intervene _too_ much of course ... but sometimes it doesn't take much to set things straight .... making sure there's pure drinking water is one of the easiest things in the world," he told her and Hermione shook her head.

"No, it's not. Do you know how many Muggle children in developing countries have died as a result of drinking contaminated water?" Hermione asked him.

"I know but it's easy for _us_ to fix that," he said quietly. "It's nice to face problems that you can actually fix," he said. Hermione nodded slowly.

"I went to visit Neville's grandmother last week," Cedric said quietly.

Hermione didn't say a word.

"She's a broken woman .... her son, her daughter in law ... Neville was the last of their line..."

Hermione shook her head. "Like you said to me, Cedric - it wasn't your fault ...."

"Really?" Cedric asked her grimly. "That night, he cried like a child Hermione..... begged me to kill him .... and I couldn't do it...."

"You couldn't because you were on the point of dying yourself ... we all were .... Neville would have understood."

"He was a good kid you know?" He said hoarsely.

"They all were, Cedric," Hermione said softly.

The bus jolted again and both were flung back onto the bed. They were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way and the moonlight illuminating the way for them.

"No, don't bother sitting up again," Cedric said as they both lay on their backs on the bed, side by side.

They stared up at the ceiling.

"Ten years, Hermione Granger .... Why did we never keep in touch?" he asked her gently.

Hermione's throat hurt. "Probably because the sight of each other brought back too many memories of that night ... too painful a reminder of those who lived and .... those who died .."

"Yes and not seeing each other clearly has been so incredibly successful at making us forget what happened. " Cedric said ironically. "We're both clearly past the pain and the sorrow". He turned his head and stared at her.

Hermione didn't reply.

"Maybe it was the guilt," Cedric said softly. "Guilt that blind luck saved me yet again ..."

"No Cedric ... it was luck that saved you in the graveyard the first time you faced Voldemort but it was skill and sheer pluck that saved you ... and me that second time ....You saved us all".

"Not all of us," Cedric said softly and he closed his eyes as if the pain and the memories were something visible that he could shut out by the simple expedient of closing his eyes. His hand clenched into a taut fist, his knuckles whitening. "Oh Hermione Granger - we're a banged up pair, aren't we?" he asked wryly.

The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and shrubs, telephone boxes and trees, and the two of them continued to lie on Cedric's bed side by side, their bodies touching. Hermione's hand smoothed over the thick velvet bedspread thoughtfully.

At one point, Basil brought them their hot chocolate which they waved away fearfully. The thought of scalding themselves and possibly wearing the hot chocolate wasn't appealling.

"How's Cho?"

"Last time I saw her she was fat with yet another baby," Cedric said with a smile, opening his eyes again, his gaze lightening slightly.

"Not yours?" Hermione teased and Cedric shook his head.

"She was never the girl for me," he said lightly.

His hand reached out and he ran his fingertip along her lower lip. "I see your face in my dreams, you know," he told her. "It makes a nice change from the nightmares ..."

"Some might say that seeing my face in your dreams constituted a nightmare," she said wryly, indicating the livid scar on her jaw.

"You're more beautiful to me now than you ever were," he told her and the sincerity in his voice made her eyes widen. The touch of his fingertip on her scar was like a caress.

"People always stare at it .. then their gazes flicker away ... I guess now I know how ... Harry felt ..."

The silence stretched between them for an endless moment.

"Do you think we'll ever get over it?" Cedric asked her and Hermione sighed.

"One day. I lead a quiet life .. one day at a time .. it's a simple and uncomplicated existence. I never talk about the old days anymore... most people want to forget the Second War ... pretend it never happened. People like me are a bit of a nasty reminder that it did."

"I went to put flowers on Professor Snape's grave," Cedric told her. "Who would have thought that the testy old bastard would have given his life for the likes of us ...."

"He surprised us all".

"Do you suppose he and Professor McGonagall argue all the time? I can't think who the hell it was who thought it was a good idea to bury them side by side ... I feel sorry for their neighbours! I made sure I left an equally nice bunch of flowers for Professor McGonagall," he said with a faint smile in his eyes.

"They died fighting side by side against Voldemort..... at the end of all things they were united. I think ... they probably enjoy being side by side - arguing even after death..." Hermione said slowly. "You held me that night," she said. "I remember .... your voice .... _'Hang on Hermione Granger .. don't die ... please don't die ...'_ you said it over and over again".

"I was bloody frightened," he said in a low voice. "I thought you and I were the only ones left ... I held you in my arms and I thought you were going to die .... I could feel life slipping from your body and I was so scared that I was going to be the only one left ...."

"You were dying, too," she pointed out. "Was it my imagination or did you kiss me?"

Cedric's eyes widened. "I was dying, you were dying ..... do you think I'd have the inclination for snogging at such a critical point?" he asked her.

Then he grinned.

"Of course I kissed you!"

Hermione's fingers went to her lips. "Yes ... you did ..." she said. "Why?"

"Why?" he asked her. He shrugged. "You were so pale and frightened ... you clung to me and asked me not to leave you .... and I've always thought you were a bit of a sweetheart ..."

"Oh," she said faintly.

"Yeah ... the way you stuck by .... your friends .... always so loyal and determined. I admired that. I didn't want us to kick the bucket without having snogged at least once," he said for a joke and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Boys ....They said you refused to let go of me ... that you held onto me until we were taken the hospital ... and that you demanded that I be treated first even though you were dying .... But when I woke up, Cedric - you were _gone_ ," she said with a question in her dark eyes.

"I failed you, Hermione. I was too much of a bloody coward to look into your eyes when you found out ..."

She put her hand up and covered his mouth.

"You didn't fail me," she told him.

She felt his lips kiss her hand before he took her hand away. "Hermione - your quiet life, your quiet existence ... you don't think it's a waste of your talents? Of your passion? I still remember you were like a zealot about those bloody house-elves ..."

Hermione's eyes were bleak. "There's nothing left of the girl I used to be, Cedric," she told him.

Cedric's eyes were very warm. "That's where you're wrong, Hermione Granger," he told her. "She's still there. I can see her," he told her, staring steadily and unwaveringly into her eyes as if he could see into her soul. "You can't quench that girl's spirit anymore than you can tame _this_ ," he said tugging at her hair which was still somewhat gravity-defying in its earnest wildness.

Hermione's eyes widened. "There are so many beautiful places in the world, so many marvellous things that you've yet to see and experience .... there's still so much darkness and suffering out there - but you've got so much to offer the world. Don't waste it on a 'quiet life', Hermione Granger ..."

Hermione felt her eyes sting.

"Why do you keep calling me by my full name?" she asked him curiously.

"It's a name I've said and thought so many times in the last 10 years ... saying it to your face seems like a dream come true," he said with a sheepish smile. "You're alive. You lived ... now treasure that," he told her intensely and without knowing how it came to pass, their lips met. The kiss was sweet, so very sweet without a trace of sorrow or pain. They smiled and kissed again, the kiss wondering, slightly awkward, tantalising and very, very hungry.

" _Oy!!!!_ " Basil exclaimed in outrage.

The two of them sprang apart, blushing furiously. Both sat bolt upright, glancing around in wild guilt and embarrassment.

"You were supposed to have got off _ages_ ago!" Basil exclaimed in disapproving outrage, glaring at Cedric.

Cedric rose to his feet, as did Hermione. "Here's another 11 Sickles," he said handing him the silver coins.

" _What?_ Where do you want to go now?" Basil demanded.

"Where are you going?" Cedric asked Hermione who gaped at him.

"Where am _I_ going? What's that got to do with anything? Where are _you_ going Cedric?" she demanded.

Cedric's gaze rested on hers. He lifted his hand and touched her hair, her cheek, her jaw and lowered his mouth to brush his lips across hers.

"When I woke up in the hospital and you were gone ..." she started to say.

"I'll never leave you again," he promised her.

He held out his hand. The bus was wobbling and swaying crazily and everything around her seemed to be swirling and spinning.

Hermione's eyes went from Cedric's steady hand up to his equally steady gaze. There was a question in his eyes.

Without hesitation, she put her hand in his. The answer was yes.

"Where do you want to go?" she repeated blushing slightly.

"Wherever you're going, Hermione Granger ...."


	2. Happy Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to continue 'After the War'

"Mmph," Hermione murmured lazily and Cedric smiled slowly, his eyes wandering over her drowsy face warmly, lingeringly..

Although the narrow single bed was very cramped, far from complaining, Cedric was very conscious of the benefits of such a small bed. It was true that they were squashed up against the wall and Cedric's legs were almost hanging off the end of the bed - but every movement brought him even closer to Hermione. Perhaps it brought Hermione closer to him. Whichever it was, he was very aware of the fact that the young woman slumbering peacefully in his arms was filling him with a rather simple and straightforward emotion that was as novel as it was overwhelming.

He felt happy.

Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks as she slept, her breathing even and quiet. To his pleasure, she turned towards him even in sleep, curling up against him trustingly. He watched over her, his fingers traced over her shoulder, down the smoothness of her arm and lightly played down her slender hip. He touched her very lightly so as not to wake her and his fingers slid through her long brown hair which lay in a thick tangle around her bare shoulders.

They had alighted from the Knight Bus quite late the night before. Diagon Alley was uncharacteristically quiet and Cedric had carried their trunks as Hermione had unlocked the front door of a bookshop. _Books and Learning_ the conservatively lettered sign read and he had stepped inside and glanced around with interest at the rows upon rows of books. The shelves were almost bursting to capacity. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, ladders everywhere. It was a bookworm's paradise.

Sure enough, the _Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes_ counter was a splash of modern colour in the corner, a marked contrast to the more conservative layout and design of the bookshop.

"I can't believe you still have one of those 'U-NO-POO' posters," he had said with a laugh as he approached the counter and examined the poster hovering in the air.

"It's now a collector's item - it's scary but do you have any idea how much that's worth these days?"

"I think I'm more scared by the fact that they still have Skiving Snackboxes, Nosebleed Nougat and the like," Cedric had said, glancing through the shelves with interest. "Shouldn't these be antiques by now ... or at least hopelesly out of date?"

"Being immature never goes out of fashion," Hermione had said balefully. "The trick wands and rubber chickens are still hideously popular. As are the Daydream Charms..... I probably make more money from these things than I do from my books," she had said ruefully.

"What’s this?" Cedric had asked curiously, holding up what looked like a small telescope. He had held it to his eye just as Hermione was exclaiming:

"No Cedric, don't!"

There had been a loud bang and Cedric had disappeared behind a thick cloud of black smoke.

Cedric had emerged from the smoke, coughing uncontrollably as he had clutched the telescope in his hand. He had sported a hideously dramatic and livid black eye that was rapidly swelling up in size as he had stared at her in astonishment.

"I squeezed it and the thing ... punched me!" he had exclaimed, staring down at the tiny fist on a long spring protruding from the end of the telescope.

"It's a punching telescope".

"Thank you, Granger - I never would have guessed," he had said witheringly and Hermione had laughed.

"Oddly enough - I, too have been a victim of that particular prank item," she had said, looking through the drawers for the cure. She had grinned at him for he looked for all the world like a giant panda. Eventually she had found a tub of ointment, unscrewing the lid carefully to reveal a thick yellow paste. "Hold still," she had told him and gently dabbed the bruise with her fingers. "Don't be such a baby," she had said reprovingly when Cedric had made 'ouch' noises and hissed in pain.

"I can see why you never became a healer, Granger," he had told her dryly, his mouth quirking up into a smile as his grey eyes had stared directly into hers. She had pulled a face and he had glanced around with interest. "I see the Shield Charms are still popular despite the fact that the war is over ... oh and love potions of course ..." he remarked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes - Fred and George still have their usual disclaimer though - the love potions work depending on the weight of the boy in question and the attractiveness of the girl in question".

"That's a pretty big proviso," he had said looking amused. He had browsed through the shelves, commenting on random titles that caught his eye.

"I live out the back," she had told him and he followed her into her living area.

Out the back, the surroundings were far more spartan. Colours in black, grey, white and navy. There were no splashes of colour, no photographs whether magical or Muggle, no flowers or decorations. It was clearly a place for a person to simply exist rather than live. There was nothing personal about her house.

"I can sleep on the sofa," he had said, indicating the sofa in the living room and Hermione had turned and smiled up into his eyes shyly.

"Is that where you want to sleep?" she had asked him directly.

"Well it does look rather uncomfortable ...." he had said and then eyed the sofa warily. "......and bloody ugly as well ... I certainly hope that _you're_ not responsible for the decoration of this place, Granger".

Hermione had given a choked laugh of reproach and then smiled shyly. "I thought that you said you wanted to be where I was ...."

"Yeah ... but it can't be that way _all_ the time," he had said with a very wry smile.

"Tonight it can be," she had said boldly with a smile that lit up her eyes and banished all trace of sadness and shadows from her face. His hands had cupped her face, his thumb stroking the scar on her jaw caressingly before he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. When their lips had finally parted, both were trembling, their breathing was ragged but shy and unsteady smiles of delight had curved their damp, bruised mouths.

Their fingers clasped together like children, Hermione had led him into her tiny, impersonal little bedroom. He had taken her into his arms and it was finally possible to forget the the war, the loss ..... everything was forgotten except the sound of his name on her lips and the way his mouth slid across her bare skin with aching tenderness.

***

"Well of all the lazy blighters!" a familiar voice interrupted Cedric's thoughts and his hand stopped abruptly, resting on Hermione's warm skin.

Cedric looked towards the fireplace and rolled his eyes. Oliver Wood's head was sitting in the middle of the flames. Cedric slid out of bed, pulling a robe around himself and crouched down by the hearth.

In typical Wood style, Oliver launched off on a fiery tirade not giving his friend an opportunity to get a word in edgewise, unconcerned by the sparks flying around his head and playing around his ears.

"I got your owl yesterday. Where the _bloody_ hell are you? And where the _bloody_ hell have you been? The villagers have been asking after you every day. What is this 'Books and Learning' place? Never tell me you've gone all bookish on me? I thought you'd left your days as a girly swot days behind you! I'm holding up as best I can but yesterday I was helping the villagers dig for a well when we hit a _whopping_ great rock. It was all I could do to make them not give up - just sleep on it, I suggested. I managed to make the rock disappear overnight but I'm buggered if I know where I sent that thing. You were always better at Charms than me. I just hope I didn't squash anyone with it!"

Cedric groaned. "Honestly, Oliver! I can't believe you've gone and done a bloody Banishing Charm _again_! That was like ... fourth year Charms! Flitwick would have your head for forgetting. Remember - _Evanesco_ makes things _disappear_. A Banishing Charm sends it somewhere else....which is what you appear to have done ...again."

He and Oliver were good friends so he didn't feel like bringing up all the instances when Oliver had banished strange objects with random carelessness around the world. Sometimes they reappeared nearby - like in Cedric's sleeping bag, sometimes they were banished to the other side of the world where they inevitably caused nuisance.

"Oh bugger," Oliver muttered with only a trace of repentence in his voice. "Hello ... what's _this_ ..." Oliver said curiously, interrupting his own monologue, tilting his fiery head to the side and attempting to glance behind Cedric inquisitively.

He could see a bare, slender, undeniably feminine leg peeping out from under the blanket. Cedric turned his head and was momentarily distracted by the sight of Hermione's slim calf, the turn of her ankle, her small toes .... until he realised that Oliver was similarly diverted.

"Stop that!" he hissed at his friend before going back to the bed and gently tucking Hermione's leg back under the blanket. He found himself unable to resist the opportunity to run his fingers caressingly against her smooth, warm flesh. She merely smiled in her sleep and murmured his name but didn't awaken.

"You've got a _woman_ there!" Oliver exclaimed, looking thunderstruck and a few sparks flew from his head. "Nice one," he said with an approving nod. "It's about time you let yourself get over that odd obsession you had with Hermione Granger. For a time there I was seriously getting worried about you ..."

Cedric came to crouch by the fire again. "We can't all be a ladies' man," he said coolly.

"So who is she? Have I met her before? Is the rest of her as nice as that leg?" Wood demanded eagerly.

"None of your business, Wood," Cedric said firmly and the expression in his grey eyes made Oliver close his eyes and start swearing violently in a variety of languages he had picked up over the years. When he reached his Kiswahili epithets, he stopped and opened his eyes again which were snapping with emotion.

"Bloody hell! I should have known. It's _her_. How do you expect to get over _her_ if you go and shag _her_?" Oliver demanded, looking positively demented in a way which many of his former Quidditch team mates might have recognised.

"Who says I want to get over her?" Cedric asked in a low voice.

Oliver shook his head. "Look mate, it's me you're talking to. It took both of us a very long time to put all that behind us. Too long. I'm sure she's a lovely girl and all but she's a reminder of .... stuff that still gives you nightmares almost every other night! We sleep in tents outdoors - do you think I don't _know_ how often you still get nightmares? Heard you screaming like a girl from the other side of the campsite? Heard you screaming _her_ name? Do you have any idea how often I have to fib to the villagers and just tell them that you have a vivid imagination? They think you're bloody cursed".

"Maybe I _was_ cursed Oliver - but I feel like my life's begun again," Cedric said, a brilliant smile on his face.

Oliver flinched and he stared at his friend, flames emerging from his head like rather demented antlers. "Feel like your life's begun again? Oh my god. What the hell? You go back to England for a short visit and you fall in love?" Oliver clutched at his hair in distress, dislodging one of the logs in the fireplace in his fervour.

"You know I've loved her for a long time ..."

"You've been obsessed with her ... that's not love ... There's a difference. I've read those Muggle women's magazines." Oliver shook his head but then he looked at his friend's happy face and an unwilling smile broke over his face. "Have to say though, Diggory - I've never seen you look so bloody over the moon .... and I'm happy for you," he said grudgingly as if he was having a tooth pulled.

"I'm happy for me, too ...."

"So I take it this isn't a one night stand?" Oliver asked.

"You know it's kind of rude to talk about a person as if she isn't there," Hermione said in a cool voice from the bed. She pulled her dressing gown around her but not before Oliver had caught a glimpse of bare arms and legs and given a low whistle of appreciation, causing Cedric to whack him on the head with a poker.

"Ouch," Oliver said automatically even though there had been no force behind the strike.

"Sorry to wake you," Cedric said apologetically, drawing Hermione against him and kissing her lingeringly. He smoothed her tangled hair back from her face, kissed her on the nose playfully and then smiled down into her dark eyes.

"No it's time for me to get up anyway," she said, smiling back at him and returning his kiss with a smile of drowsy pleasure. She crouched down beside him and stared into the fire with interest.

"Hullo Oliver ... fiery as ever I see," she said.

"Not a comedian are you. Don't give up your day job Granger whatever it is," Oliver said with a grin. "So how was he in the sack? A bit out of practice I'd imagine," Oliver jibed and Cedric rolled his eyes.

Hermione slanted a glance at Cedric.

"Ummm, no need to answer that question," he told her beneath his breath.

"Not that it's any of your business but if he'd been any better I might have died," Hermione told Oliver bluntly.

Cedric blushed scarlet and Oliver howled with appreciative laughter. "Who'd have thought? Then again, years of abstinence and frustration have no doubt led to boundless enthusiasm even if his technique might have been lacking".

"You don't have to answer that either ..." Cedric began.

"Toe curlingly pleasurable," Hermione said coolly, cutting him off.

"Feel free to answer any questions you like," Cedric declared magnanimously, a broad grin on his face.

Oliver gave a shout of laughter and looked very amused. "Well you're looking well Hermione - all the bits I've seen anyway. I look forward to seeing more of you," and then laughed when it was Hermione who hit him on the head with the poker. "I think I'd best leave you two violent love birds on your own. Don't tire him out too much Hermione - our work is too important for the best bloke I've got on the job to exhaust himself with endless sex." He gave a wicked wink and then with a tiny pop, he disappeared into banked embers.

"He really hasn't changed a bit," Hermione said shaking her head.

"Oh he's changed," Cedric told her, his steady grey eyes suddenly very sober. "When he found out he couldn't play Quidditch anymore ... he was completely and utterly gutted. You wouldn't have known him. His parents were killed in the Second War .... Quidditch was all he had to hold onto, when he lost that, he was almost out of his mind but to his credit, he went searching for a new obsession and he found it. He's a top bloke. I'd trust him with my life. More to the point - he's saved my life several times over now... " he said.

Hermione leaned against him and kissed his neck, placing nibbling kisses along his skin. "Do you really have nightmares almost every night?" she asked him softly, her face very serious.

"Wood's exaggerating," he lied. His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "Only every other night," he confessed ruefully.

"You didn't have any nightmares last night," she said running a fingertip down his cheek. When she ran it across his mouth she laughed as he slid her fingertip into his mouth and he bit on it lightly. He leaned over and his lips slid slowly down her cheek, along her scar until he reached her mouth.

"You kept me too busy for nightmares last night Hermione Granger," he said wickedly.

"You slept in my arms," she said with a smile.

"You made me too tired for nightmares," he amended.

"You were dreaming .. I saw you smiling .."

"I hope I didn't say anything," he said looking a little apprehensive.

"Just some nonsense about a monkey in a baobab tree," she told him and he shook his head.

"I suppose it's fair .... I watched while you were sleeping this morning. Delicate little snores and snuffles".

"I do not snore and I certainly do not snuffle," she said disdainfully. "Do you want some breakfast?" she asked him, changing the topic.

"Cripes, Wood's not the only one who's changed. You're offering to cook for me? I had no idea you'd become a little homebody ..." he teased her provocatively.

"It's breakfast, Cedric - I'm not offering to toast your slippers for you," she told him sourly.

"A man can dream," he said pretending to look crushed. "Breakfast it is - but only if you let me help," he said following her to her small, rather dingy little kitchen which like the rest of her house had a cold and unlived in appearance. Only the shop still had the warmth and enthusiasm that he associated with her. It was as if she had channelled all her energies into work.

"Do you even know how to cook the Muggle way?" she asked him.

"Of course I do," he said looking very offended. "I've spent the last ten years living among Muggles". He conveniently ignored the fact that he and Oliver carted around copies of "Campfire Cooking Charms - It's easy as Hey Presto", "Al Fresco Dining and Being Discreet", and "One Minute Feasts -- It's Magic!"

The old somewhat battered radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Witching Hour - Celestina Warbeck cover songs and nothing else ....."

"Can we shut it?" he asked with a grimace.

Hermione smiled. "Want the Muggle radio instead?"

"Anything's got to be better than Celestina Warbeck covers ... the original was bad enough".

 _".....a large rock has mysteriously appeared in a crowded intersection downtown causing traffic to be diverted. Motorists are advised to avoid ..."_

"Well we would appear to have found the location of Oliver's mysterious rock," Cedric muttered.

Hermione opened the refrigerator, taking out ingredients and Cedric watched for a moment as she put some sausages into the frying pan. She added the eggs and watched the food sizzling on the pan. A brief time later as the delicious smell of sausages filled the kitchen, she turned off the heat and glanced over at Cedric who was making toast.

She bit back a smile when she saw him mutter _Evanesco_ and the two pieces of black burnt toast which were emitting clouds of somke immediately disappeared.

"You didn't see that," he told her as he put two new pieces of bread in the toaster.

"Cheating are we?"

"I call it using abilities which I am fortunate enough to possess," Cedric corrected her with a grin. "You still use magic ... why not use it for cooking?"

Hermione's smile faded. "Mum loved to cook," she told him in a quiet voice. She glanced away, not wanting to see the look of dawning understanding and pity in his grey eyes. "Dad did too - he was so very bad at it .... but I have fond memories of the two of them 'cooking' together - which basically meant mum cooking and dad trying to help but actually mum was giving him tasks that would result in the least damage," she gave a faint smile, staring down at her hands. "It's all I have left of her, Cedric. When they killed my parents - they burnt my house down. I have no photographs, portraits .... all my baby photos are gone - which is probably a blessing in disguise," she told him, trying to smile.

Cedric swallowed hard. "Do you regret going to Hogwarts?" he asked her abruptly. "7 years - living away from your parents?"

Hermione tilted her head to one side and considered the question. "No ..... They were as happy for me when I received the letter ..... " She gave a soft sigh and then swallowed. "I _do_ wish I had spent more time with them". She lifted her gaze and met his eyes steadily again. "I didn't even have bodies to bury and mourn over, you know," she told him and while he didn't flinch, his heart ached for her.

He didn't know what to say so he chose to glare at the inoffensive and defenceless toaster "Right! If I can remove dangerous micro-organisms from polluted water - I can master you, my little friend - any more trouble and I'll turn you into a cabbage," he declared challengingly to the toaster which merely sat there and of course didn't answer back.

Hermione laughed despite herself at his foolishness.

Breakfast was eaten at the small table squashed in the corner, knees and legs bumping against one another - both accidentally and deliberately. There was muffled laughter and random conversation as they fed one another, amused at their own affectionate foolishness. Differences of opinion never threatened to turn into arguments although Cedric did challenge her to a wizard's duel at dawn when she criticised his favourite Quidditch team.

After breakfast they stood at the sink side by side, Hermione washing and Cedric drying, a dish cloth in his hands. He kept nudging at her teasingly with his hip and she would nudge him back.

"Stay on your side," she told him as he nudged her again.

"Hurry up, you're a slow poke," he commented as she washed up.

As he placed the last plate down, dried thoroughly beneath her critical gaze, he said seriously.

"I have visions of you here alone, Granger - alone with only your memories for company ...." before she could speak he continued rashly. "I'm not saying you should forget the past, but it seems to me that it's past time for you to make some new memories. Some happy ones. With me" he smiled at her tentatively. "If you came with me ... saw the work that we do .... we could make happy memories together. How about it?"

Hermione lifted her brows. "Changing the agreement? No fair - I _distinctly_ remember that you said you were going to go where I was going ...."

"And that remains the case," Cedric said with a grin on his face.

"Absolutely no mention of me tossing in my career to follow you around the world ..."

"You could still keep the shop open while you see the world with me ..."

"Quite a lot different from saying I should go with you where you're going ..." she pointed out.

"The end effect is the same, you have to agree?" he countered.

"Yes but the fact remains that going with me where I'm going and then telling me I should go with you where you're going is for all intents and purposes the complete opposite ...."

"Well I do intend to go with you where you're going but I was rather hoping that I'd be able to convince you go to with me where I'm going because I think you'd like it .... very much .... and then I'd still be going where you were going and we both win".

He took a step towards her.

She took a step backwards.

"Now you're just playing with me," she said accusingly, her hair almost bristling in outraged sympathy.

He grinned wickedly. "I thought you rather enjoyed playing with me....and Granger - I love the way your hair still defies gravity ... never change, all right?" he said with a tender smile which made her want to throw herself back into his arms despite herself.

He took another step forward.

She took another step backward.

"I don't want to be hurt anymore Cedric. I didn't ask you to come back into my life and stir things up again ...." she told him warily.

"I was hoping you'd be happy I was back," he said softly. "I'd tell you how I felt when I saw you again but I'd just sound like a right prat".

He took another step towards her and she took another step backwards.

"I'm not good at all that .... I'm a very simple and down to earth person ... I ...."

"I've got something very important to tell you, Granger," he said very softly.

"Yes?" she asked him apprehensively.

"If you take another another step backwards you're going to end up falling out that window," he told her and she glanced around and realised that he was absolutely right.

He reached out and drew her against him, her head against his shoulder as he stroked her hair. "See how useful I am to have around? And heroic? Here I am rescuing you from near death. If not for me, you'd have fallen out that dangerous window," he teased her. She didn't say a word and he lowered his head and kissed her cheek, trailed his lips down the livid scar on her jaw. "Don't be frightened of us, Hermione Granger," he whispered. "Of ... this ..."

"I don't enjoy game playing, Cedric," she told him bluntly and the smile vanished from his face good-looking face.

"I've never been more serious in my life, Granger," he told her evenly.

She found that she believed him but before she could respond, he had moved onto his next unsettling topic of conversation.

"So we'll name our first kid, Harry right .. if it's a boy?"

Hermione flinched at the name but at the gentle expression in Cedric's eyes she said with spirit. "Who said anything about babies?"

"That was implied. When you said yes, you were agreeing to have my babies,"

"You are so full of rubbish, I never said I was going to have your _baby_ let alone babies ..."

"Of course you did, you should have realised that I was going for the whole works. Marriage, babies...."

" _Marriage_? You haven't even proposed! And don't you dare tell me that that was implied," she said in a threatening voice.

"Of course it was," Cedric protested with a laugh and Hermione found that she was laughing, too.

"Oh shut up!" she told him.

"You shut up!" he retorted.

"No you shut up!" she answered.

"Make me!" he dared.

"Well that's mature!" she told him. She looked at him accusingly when she realised that during the course of their childish argument he had managed to steer them back into her bedroom.

They toppled backwards onto the bed, laughing at the ridiculousness of the conversation as they wrestled with playful urgency, hands and lips wandering boldly.

"If you do _that_ again, I promise to shut up," Cedric said thickly, his grey eyes very aroused and filled with delicious anticipation.

"Shut up," she told him and he did.

**The End**


End file.
